


Searching

by Zenniet



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cleaning, Kink Discovery, M/M, Size Difference, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, This is with the hc that robots don't sneeze so I had to be creative, Vaginal Sex, sneeze fetish, sneeze kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 19:23:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20680637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenniet/pseuds/Zenniet
Summary: Read the tags and don't fucking @ me





	Searching

“Rodimus, stop complaining and get to work.” Magnus groaned as he pushed 

and moved boxes. For just  _ one _ day, they were supposed to be cleaning out the storage closet that was joined to Rodimus’ office. That’s not to say that Magnus was enjoying it, or even tolerating it, as he usually did with cleaning. No, they were trying to find an important datapad that Rodimus had misplaced during the last time that Rodimus had shoved all the mess and contents of his desk into the storage closet.

It contained the permit that they needed in order to dock and refuel at the next 

upcoming planet, so their time was limited as they approached their destination, and Magnus was getting ansty with that threat looming over them.

“Don’t be such a worrier, Mags,” Rodimus said, messing with the joints in his 

digits idly, “I’ve got full confidence in you that you can find it. ‘S why I brought you along.”

Though he wasn’t truly paying attention to anything in particular, he didn’t 

miss the way that his conjunx’s expression dropped in the slightest. From ‘serious’ to ‘serious-but-also-a-little-sad’. The closet didn’t have much room to move around, and Magnus picking up boxes off of shelves and turning to put them on the floor had him taking up almost all the space already, but Rodimus still stepped and leaned over, tiptoeing and giving Magnus a peck on his nose.

“And I wanted to spend some time with you.” He chuckled as he saw a light blush 

creeping across Magnus’ face at the gesture. “I know we’ve both been busy and we haven’t gotten to be around each other for a little while, I figured this might be a good way to squeeze in some time.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Rodimus,” Magnus straightened his back and picked

up another box, “Though I’d also appreciate if you would help here.”

“C’mon, Mags, you’re built like a tank and I’m sure if I moved from this 

spot, you’d probably manage to knock me over next time you moved.” Rodimus gestured to the space around him, accidentally knocking his elbow on the wall in doing so, “This place isn’t exactly  _ big _ .”

When Rodimus looked back up from rubbing his elbow joint, he noticed 

something a little off about Magnus. He was just holding the box in his servos, a the slightest crease in his brow and soft tension coiled up in his face. As Rodimus went to ask him if anything was wrong, a sudden blast of air exploded from Magnus’ vents and the big mech jumped, almost startled, and dropped the box to the floor. As the box slammed to the ground, Rodimus had the good sense to shut his vents.

“Wow, big guy, you okay?” Rodimus asked, kneeling down to inspect the

contents of the box, “My audio receptors are still ringing from that.”

Magnus shook the spinning from his dizzy processor and nods.

“Apologies.” He muttered.

“You got too used to your  _ super _ clean office,” Rodimus chuckled. His servos peeled back the flaps of the box to reveal several stacks of dusty tablets. “Bere, we have to check these?”

“Y-You’re certain?” Magnus huffed, trying to keep the reluctance from his voice only to have a datapad shoved into his servos from Rodimus’ place on the floor.

“Definitely, this is the only box of datatablets we’ve found so far, so start turning them on and looking for important stuff.” He took one out for himself and started holding the power button down. His shut vents made his frame grow warmer, but he certainly preferred it to what Magnus had to deal with. Rodimus wasn’t sure if Magnus  _ could _ shut his vents with his alt-mode configuration. The speedster thanked Primus that he was- well, a speedster.

“R- Rodimus, I think me working on this is going to do more harm than g-  _ nh! _ ” He cut himself off with a near gasp and another sharp blast of air from his vents that had his whole frame tensing. When he managed to open his optics, he saw Rodimus  _ staring _ up at him.

“Sorry,” Rodimus chuckled, getting back to inspecting his datapad. Servo setting the tablet on the floor after its inspection, Rodimus picked up another and noticed that his frame was only getting warmer and warmer. He’d sealed his vents temporarily before, and it’s never had this kind of reaction. Under any other circumstances, Rodimus would just be a little uncomfortable. Now, though? He felt like he was  _ burning _ .

He knew that he should probably be working on finding that document, but he couldn’t take his optics off of Magnus. The little twitch in his cheeks, the way his optics unfocus, scrunching his nasal ridge and pulling his lips to a fine line as if that’s going to help any.

“ _ Rodimus _ ,” Magnus said half in disbelief, half scolding. The captain had to take a second to actually figure out what his second in command was talking about: his yellow servo on Magnus’ white pelvic plating. Now, when did he put that there?

“Sorry!” He yelped, a dark blush shooting across his cheeks while he fished out another datapad. “You know, what?” Rodimus knew that something was going on with him, but he couldn’t put his finger on it, “I think we should take a break, y’know, do this later?” He’d take any opportunity to get out of that storage closet and open his vents back up, maybe it’s cool his overheating frame.

“We will be docking before tonight, I-” Magnus had to pause, vents hitching a moment before evening back out, “I don’t think that there’s any time to take a break. Please, just keep looking for the document.”

He did. Or, at least, he tried to. Well, he  _ wanted _ to try to, but his processor kept looping back around to Ultra Magnus. Frag, he’d rather be anywhere besides the dirty storage closet. His systems were overheating and- scrap. 

The realization of what he was getting so worked up about dawned on him. He  _ had _ to do something about it, too, or he’d never be able to look for that important datapad. Rodimus couldn’t believe that he was about to even  _ try _ this.

His servo grabbed at Magnus’ spike paneling and he put on the most suggestive look he could as his thumb traced along the panel’s edge.

“Come on, Mags, just a quick break?” He stood up, leaning his chest against Magnus’. He heard the bigger mech’s venting stutter,

“Rodimus-”

“We can be quick, I promise,” It came off more desperate than seductive or suggestive. His servo didn’t stop working against Magnus’ paneling. Rodimus wasn’t sure if he was lying or not when he said that they could be quick, though; his charge was already high and he knew that his valve was flooding his own paneling.

“Then you can be quick in finding this-”

“ _ Please, _ Mags!” He didn't care that he was cutting him off, and he really didn't care what Magnus had to say. His spoiler angled down, twitching restlessly. “I really,  _ really _ need you, please.” Rodimus’ voice dripped with desperation, and his engine rumbled in a low purr that Magnus was sure to notice. The speedster himself couldn’t tell at this point if he was playing it up or not.

For a second, Rodimus felt time stand still while he looked up at Magnus, waiting for whatever verdict he decided on. With a soft sigh, the larger mech muttered something about "as long as we find that document afterward" and motioned with his digits for Rodimus to stand up. Excitement restored, the captain simply shook his head and twisted his frame, standing with a right angle bend in his hips and his digits gripping the shelf in front of him. 

"I wanna do it like  _ this _ ." He said with a wiggle of his spoiler and a little shift as he scooted his pedes further apart. Though, before he felt Magnus do anything, out of the corner of his visual feed he saw the second in command reach down and pick the box of data pads off of the floor, then move to set it on the shelf next to him. Rodimus looked back. The box, which possibly contained the data pad that they needed, sat at a spot just to the side and behind of Magnus' waist. 

"Wait, wait," Rodimus interrupted again, his processor working to hatch a devious plan. He twisted his frame, hitched his legs up until they were wrapped around Magnus' waist. Rodimus in all his gifted flexibility and strength, held himself up by his thighs around Magnus and his elbow joints propped on the shelf behind him. "Put it here." He patted his chassis, evoking a somewhat confused look from his second-in-command. 

"Put the box here, on me. That way I can keep working while you frag me." Did his plan make sense? It did to him, though maybe not to Magnus. "I thought you loved work? Or are you just expecting to frag me so hard I can't think straight?" His voice dropped to a low, seductive purr while he spoke, a tone that not even Magnus could turn away from. 

The box resting on his chassis was, in fact, not the best idea. As Magnus set it down as carefully as he could, it still did block Rodimus from being able to see his conjunx. Plus, it was  _ pretty heavy _ , but that just meant that he had to work a little quicker, and that's fine by him if he gets to mess with Magnus in the way he's planning. 

Tilting to balance his weight on one elbow, he reached up and snagged a data pad from on top of the stack in the box. The bright light shone on his face as he powered it on, but before he could get a chance to inspect it, something prodded at his valve cover. With a gasp, Rodimus craned his neck and tried to look past the box, to no avail. Magnus scoffed, 

"So on edge, Captain," Rodimus heard Magnus' deep voice detail what he already knew. "This was  _ your  _ idea, but I can put the box back if you would prefer."

"N-no! I can handle it." He said rapidly, before Magnus could take the box back. "I bet I can go through this whole thing before you can make me overload."

That was a bold faced lie, but Magnus didn't need to know that. 

Once Rodimus finished his sentence, he popped his valve covers only to have a flood of lubricant drip from him, streaking down his aft. He gasped, unable to stop the shiver racing down his spinal strut and the little bob of his spoiler that threatened to knock things off of the shelf space next to him. He swore he could hear Magnus chuckle. 

Magnus' digit pushed into the cleft of Rodimus' valve, stroking along the wet petals before brushing across Rodimus' anterior node, making the speedster tremble. 

"C'mon Mags! Your killing me here, just-" Before Rodimus could get the rest of his sentence out, he was being nudged, pushed up, then drawn down onto the girth of Magnus' spike. He let out a shaky moan, fighting back the urge to just let Magnus hold him and use him as a frag toy. Rodimus set the data pad he was holding down on the shelf and reached a shaky servo up for a new tablet to check.

"I'm working just like I said I would, see Ma-  _ ah! _ " Rodimus interrupted himself again when Magnus grasped his slender waist and easily pulled him halfway off his spike before pulling him back down again. The captain moaned, biting his lip and feeling his valve clench down on the length that filled it. 

"Magnus!" Rodimus cried out as another thrust from the larger mech slammed into his ceiling node. "Frag,  _ yes, _ " He moaned. Rodimus tried to move again, tried to turn so he could see his partner, only to be blocked by the box of data pass that sat on his chassis. The  _ incredibly dusty _ box of data pads. He remembered why he's asked to have them nearby, and figured,  _ well, why not?  _

Rodimus picked up the box as best he could, and dropped it on the floor beside him. He shut his vents as he saw the light cloud of dust puff from it's top. The change he saw in Magnus was instantaneous, the big bot's thrusts slowing, the crease in his brow, the labored intensity of his vents. 

"Come in, Mags, are you stopping?" Rodimus said, squeezing his thighs around his partner. He saw the little shiver that races through Magnus' frame before-

The following blast from his vents was nearly loud enough to make the things on the shelves shake off of their position, and it was most certainly loud enough to startle a yelp from the captain though that quickly melted into a shivering whine. His valve clenched around Magnus' throbbing spike, 

" _ Please _ don't stop now, Mags!  _ Please _ !" He cried out. Despite his vents' desperate attempts to rid themselves of the dust, Magnus' pace evened out back to the rough dragging he was giving Rodimus before. Another loud sneeze shook Magnus' frame hard, and Rodimus' spoiler twitched and wiggled with his charge.

His vocalizer let out sharp, pitchy, cut off moans and barks of static that signaled his impending overload. His legs only tightened around Magnus, and his hips canted and bucked uselessly in his second in command’s grip. With a cry, Rodimus’ calipers cycled down on Magnus’ spike as he hit his climax, his core tightening in Magnus’ hold and his frame going rigid, save for the little twitches in his hips. His charge rose and peaked and only drew out longer and higher when he felt the thick rush of hot ropes of Magnus’ transfluid filling him, stretching his valve even further before it flooded out between his shivering thighs.

Rodimus regained his senses to see Magnus leaning back against the shelves behind him.

“Okay,” Rodimus sighed, “I’ve had my fun. You get out of here before you deafen me, and I’ll keep looking for the datapad, okay?” He eased himself off of Magnus spike and shut his panels, “And I guess I’ll clean this mess up, too.” He said, looking down at the puddles of transfluid on the floor.

“You’re s-”

“Yes, I’m sure, now get out of here.” Rodimus chuckled, hurriedly ushering Magnus out of the cramped storage room. After all, he could  _ not _ let him know that he was about to self service to some of the lovely recordings he’d just gotten.


End file.
